Chapter 9

Sleep is falling away as I drift awake. Seems I did fall asleep after all. Awareness comes piece by piece. I am pulsing with lust, arousal, and need. My body is sweating with it. Pleasure is flowing in my veins. It's dark. The only sound is my panting breaths.

I'm lying on my stomach. My hips are humping the mattress and dragging my hard cock across the furs. I can feel them through the silk of my cock's prison.

Rhydian's fingers are in my ass. Two or three of them, I can't quite tell. There is so much oil. Wet, soft and warm. It is like a caress of its own.

He is fucking me gently with his fingers. The fullness in my ass feels so good. The slight stretch of my rim. Slow and steady strokes, in and out. I gasp.

How long has he been doing this? How did I sleep through it? Was he so incredibly slow and gentle that I'm only waking up now that I am on the very edge of orgasm?

His fingers thrust deep within me and then fall still. Then they move gently. Soft little circles against the wall of my channel. A cry escapes me. My hips raise up to meet him. I can see stars. Holy fuck! That must be my prostate. I've never had any luck in finding it myself, or at least in any way that feels good.

Rhydian apparently has it down to a fine art. His fingers continue to move in small circles while applying a level of pressure that is maddening. I'm clutching onto the furs as if they can save me. Moans and whimpers are pouring out of me.

"Do you want to cum, Pet?"

I shudder. Pleasure and sensation surge. Every nerve ending is alight. I'm drooling into the pillow. Nothing has ever felt so good.

"Ask for it, Pet."

Oh gods. I want to cum. I want it so bad. I can feel the very edges of my orgasm teasing me, whispering down my neck. So close, so very close, but not quite here.

"I…I want to cum! Please!" My voice sounds hoarse and breathy. Nothing like how I usually sound.

Rhydian's fingers push down and I explode. My orgasm erupts through me. I'm screaming and bucking. Every single muscle in my body is clenching with the intense pleasure coursing through it.

His fingers keep moving and my peak keeps rolling on and on. His strokes against my prostate are starting to be a mix of pleasure and pain. My balls are contracting, but I'm empty. Everything I have has been spilled into the cockbag and magically whisked away. My hips still buck futilely. Driven by the unending pressure on my prostate.

"What pretty noises you make, Pet," he whispers in my ear.

I cry out in pain. He stops. Finally, he is showing mercy. His fingers leave me. I'm panting like I've run a marathon. I'm dripping in sweat. I can't see. I can barely hear. Aftershocks of pleasure are zapping and zinging through my body, making me tremble.

I feel well and truly fucked.

Sunlight lances straight through my eyelids direct to my brain. I groan and roll away from it. The bed is empty. Rhydian has gone. I don't need to open my eyes to know that. The absence of his presence is making the room cold and dim.

Another groan escapes me. My body still feels lax and spent from last night. My skin is sticky with dry sweat. Reluctantly, I open my eyes. Three little pink haired people are glaring at me impatiently. Fine. They are right. I really do need a bath. And if they want to give me another massage, I'm not going to say no.

I heave myself out of bed and pad towards my bathroom. Behind me, two of the servants erupt into motion, stripping the bed. Even though, thanks to the cockbag, there is not too much mess. Despite that, I can feel my face heating, even though I have nothing to be embarrassed about. None of this is my fault or my choice.

I hurry into the waiting warm water and sink into its comforting embrace. This part of my imprisonment is something I could very easily get used to. This mini swimming pool is far nicer than the shitty shower in my shitty flat. Any bath with water above lukewarm would feel decadent. This huge sunken hot tub feels otherworldly.

A thump has me looking over. Pinky is holding a shampoo bottle menacingly. Fine. I move over and surrender my head to her. She gets to work vigorously.

"What's your name?" I try.

She just grunts and continues washing my hair. Maybe this silver thread in my ears is not multilingual and only does one Fey language to English? Or perhaps she doesn't have a translator? Or, she simply doesn't wish to talk to me.

She gets me to rinse off, and then she bosses me out of the bath. Which is a shame, as I could happily stay in here all day. I stand still as she towel dries me. Between the black leather collar and the silk cockbag, I don't feel truly naked.

She efficiently dresses me, and then leads me out of the bathroom and up to the double doors that lead to the rest of the palace.

"Whoa!" I say as I dig my heels in. I really don't feel safe leaving Rhydian's rooms.

She glares up at me and tugs on my robe insistently.

"Where are we going?" I ask. Is she taking me to Rhydian? Or somewhere even more dangerous?

"Prince Dyfri," she says softly.

Oh, she can speak. And she wants to take me to Dyfri. I guess that makes sense. He did say he would be free today, and it's going to take more than one session to learn how to be the perfect pet.

"Okay," I nod and I allow her to tow me out of Rhydian's rooms.

Walking through Buckingham Palace is terrifying, but miraculously we don't see a soul. Pinky opens a small door and hustles me inside.

Oh wow, this was not what I was expecting. There are shelves everywhere, on every conceivable surface, and all of them are laden with weird and wonderful things. The only items I can identify are jars of herbs, and potted plants. I spy some crystals, rocks and sticks. But everything else is completely alien to me.

Pinky leads me through the maze of shelves to where Dyfri is standing by a workbench, wrapping something in a heavy cloth. His dark eyes rake over me, then ignore me. He is not alone.

I peer cautiously at the other man. I think he is another prince. I'm pretty sure he was at that lunch I attended on my first day. His antlers have a reddish hue and his ears are more pointed than his brothers'. He isn't wearing robes, but tight fitting copper coloured trousers that look like velvet. His waistcoat is red and gold and his brown jacket flares out at the hips. Only a few strands of his bark brown hair are falling free, the rest is up in a neat bun.

He looks like a sexy Mr Tumulus from the Narnia books I read as a kid. Or a suave version of Bacchus, the Greek god of debauchery.

His whiskey coloured eyes glance at me. "Why is Rhydian's pet here?"

"I'm teaching him how to take cock," says Dyfri as he ties string around the parcel he is making.

A wounded look flashes over the fawn-like prince's face. "Dyfri," he says softly. "My offer will always stand. Just say the word and I'll pull some strings and have someone claim you."

"Keep your pity, Selwyn. I don't need it," says Dyfri as he shoves the parcel roughly into his brother's chest.

Selwyn smiles deep enough to flash his dimples. "As you wish, brother dearest." He hefts the parcel. "Are you sure this will work?"

Dyfri scowls and crosses his arms. "You may take your business elsewhere if you doubt my skills."

Selwyn grins again, turns on his heels and leaves without another word. Dyfri launches into clearing his workbench. Herbs are tipped back into jars and corks are shoved into bottles of alarmingly coloured liquids.

"I…er…can come back if you are busy?" I say despite not knowing if it is true. Pinky has vanished and I'm not sure if I could find my way back. I don't even know if I am allowed to leave.

"No, it's fine. I'm done now,"

He gestures to me to follow him into the next room. I obediently trail behind him, only to freeze when I come face to face with the ornate four-poster bed decadently covered in layers of deep purple velvet.

Dyfri looks back at me and rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to give you a practical demonstration. You are Rhydian's."

That was reassuring. Up until that last part. Does that mean he would, if I didn't belong to his brother?

Dyfri sits down elegantly on a purple and cream striped settee. He pats the empty space next to him. I shuffle forward.

"What are we learning today?" I ask.

"Manners," replies Dyfri curtly.

I take my place next to him. I'm strangely disappointed. Apparently, part of me wishes to know how to be a fiend in bed. Which is ridiculous for all sorts of reasons. Not least of which is the fact that I haven't even got the chance to try the blowjob tricks Dyfri taught me. Anything else is going to be just as useless.

"Tea?" asks Dyfri.

"Yes, please." Hopefully, it will come with cake because Pinky didn't give me breakfast.

Dyfri claps his hands and a small army of servants spring into action, setting a table by the settee, complete with white linen and a three-tier silver cake stand.

Look at me. Taking tea and learning manners in Buckingham Palace. What has the world come to?